Page 11 of Lost in the Moonlight

I squared my shoulders, set down my cup, and dug around in my bag for my umbrella. It was my mini one and wouldn’t do much to keep me dry in this deluge, but it would have to do. I’d get through it. It was just water.

“I have to leave, or I’ll be late for work,” I said.

“It’s not even three in the morning.”

His shocked tone caused my lips to twitch. “Baker’s hours. If I don’t get into the kitchen soon, the scones will be late. I work at The Tea Spot, which is why I was surprised I hadn’t seen you in there before.”

He hesitated for a beat before asking, “Will you be there by yourself?”

“Until sixish.”

He glanced out the bay window where a row of pots with brightly colored flowers were carefully lined up. Lincoln was full of surprises—and not just because he’d offered to help some random woman in the middle of the night. The brewing anger and darkness hovering around him were also unexpected, especially when the media portrayed him as some careless partier living off his trust fund and his father’s fame. If I believed what the news said, I wouldn’t have expected him to stick his nose out for anyone.

“You’ll get drenched walking,” he said. “I’ll drive you.”

He was back to being annoyed and put out at the inconvenience of it all, which only made me want to soothe him again, so I gave him a reassuring smile I reserved for the rare irate customer. “It’s not that far, and I’m used to walking.”

“You’re not walking,” he grumbled. “Not tonight. Not in the rain and not after…” He waved toward the window and the cemetery. “Let me grab my keys.”

Before I could argue, he strode from the kitchen toward the front of the house. Maybe I should have been pissed at the high-handed command, but the truth was, I didn’t want to walk in the rain. And I certainly didn’t want to walk in the dark after the encounter with Poco. I could ignore the tempting but mixed signals simmering between us for a few minutes longer. Just like I could ignore the temptation to explore the rest of his house to see if it was as forcefully light as this space. As if he was cloaking himself in sunshine to ease away the dark.

So, I’d let him drive me to work, and I’d thank him and send him on his way. Then, I wouldn’t see him again for days, or weeks even. And when I did, there would likely be a counter between us and people around, and whatever spark I thought I’d felt would be completely gone.

Which hurt more than any other thought I’d had since he’d rescued me.

The music shut off, and the house seemed unexpectedly empty and forlorn without it.

Or maybe that was just me.

To have a glimpse of desire and lust and the imagined chance at something, only to have it pulled away, seemed unfair. But then again, I shrugged to myself, life wasn’t fair. It didn’t mean I couldn’t relish the tantalizing memories of this morning. I’d met Lincoln Matherton in person. I’d spent a few moments in this lovely kitchen, feeling emotions I’d always wanted to feel. I’d smiled and laughed and seen him do the same. Those were the memories I’d keep from today, and I’d let go of the rest.

Lincoln came striding down the hall, sliding his arms into a gray wool jacket and fisting a set of keys. I was struck all over again by how magnificent he was. Dark and dazzling with those eyes that could peel back all your layers. The intensity of his gaze rippled across the space on invisible waves. It was the same one that had stared out fromThe Reporter’scover a year or two ago when he’d been declared the most handsome man under thirty.

Simply taking in the beauty of him made it incredibly easy for my smile to return. He waved me out the back door, and I focused on the pure energy of life beating around us as we raced through the onslaught of ice and rain to a black Range Rover parked at the end of the drive. He got to the car before me, opening the passenger side in a manner that made my insides melt. The longing I had for a boyfriend, dates, and love threatened to rip through the joy of the moment before I pushed it all aside. Either I’d have those things someday, or I wouldn’t. But right now, I had this—a handsome man making sure I got to work safely.

I slid inside the vehicle while he jogged around the front. We were both soaked by the time the doors shut. When I looked over at him to apologize for the rain dripping onto his expensive interior, the wide smile on his face planted itself in my chest.

Another happy memory to hold.

He shook his hair and water danced through the air, landing on the dash and the center console. A bead even landed on my hand. I fought the urge to lick the single drop, wondering if it would taste like he smelled. Like anise and clove and forbidden fruit.

I returned his smile because I couldn’t help it. Because he was gorgeous and kind and had taken a huge risk to come to my defense. I suddenly realized I hadn’t even thanked him for it, and embarrassment flooded through me.

“I’m truly grateful for what you did. Thank you for stepping in to help me.”

It wiped the pleasure from his face, stiffening his shoulders, and I wanted to kick myself for stealing the lightness from him.

“I’m glad I could be there,” he grunted out as if there was a deeper meaning to that handful of words. A meaning I didn’t have a key to decode.

After he’d backed out of the drive, I asked, “Are you always up at two in the morning?”

If at all possible, he went even more rigid, back so straight and tight I thought he might break at a mere touch.

“I’ve been unpacking. I don’t like living out of boxes,” he offered, but I knew it wasn’t the entire truth.

His face was cast in blue shadows from the dash lights, but I thought back to him in the bright, sunny kitchen where darkness had still clung to him. Purple smudges had hung beneath his tired eyes, and there’d been an ashen sheen to his naturally bronzed skin.

I recognized that look—the aftereffects of weeks of sleepless nights.

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